Your Eyes Told Me Plenty
by nothing-rhymes-with-ianto
Summary: Brians POV of three scenes from 2.19. He sensed something was up, he just didnt know exactly what.
1. Chapter 1

**By the way, check out the lyrics to Plenty by Sarah McLachlan (it plays during the credits of 2.19) It almost perfectly describes the situation in this episode**  


* * *

Brian flipped through his books, sighing. Internally, he cursed the idiots who had fucked up because, of course, he was the one who had to fix it. A niggling little voice in the back of his head wondered where Justin was. He wasn't usually out this late. He took another sip of wine, savoring the heavy taste on his tongue, silently debating whether or not to get up and find something stronger. The door slid open. Justin was back.

"You're working late." _I could say the same thing about you. What are you up to, Sunshine?_

"Well, that's one of the benefits of being a partner. Give someone something to do, they fuck it up, and then you get to do it yourself." He turned back to the books, aware of Justin stepping closer.

"You asked for it."

"Yeah. And I got it. Where have you been?" He noticed the hesitation, the slight pause of thought. _Justin, what aren't you telling me?_

"Studying. And I had get these. What do you think?" He opened the poster with a flourish.

He took the poster, looked at it. "My own little advertising genius! I told you I'd help you."

"You're too busy." Justin started to walk away, but Brian caught him by the hem of his shirt.

"C'mere." Justin wrestled out of his grip.

"I have to shower, I stink."

Brian turned back to his work, sighed. _What's going on? What the hell is_ up _with you?_ "From studying?"

"Sweating over a project."

_Huh._ Brian pulled his lips into his mouth and tapped out a rhythm on his book. _What's with you?_ It wasn't like Justin to refuse sex. It wasn't like Justin to act that way, twist out of his grasp and brush him off like that. He heard the shower turn on and stared in the direction of the bathroom. Random scenarios, reasons, rapid-fired in his head, but he pushed them away. He rolled his neck, grimacing, both at the pain and at his thoughts.

Standing, he loosened his tie and pulled it off, unbuttoning his shirt. He shed his clothes, dropping them on the floor before silently stepping into the bathroom. For a moment, he stayed in the doorway, admiring Justin's pale body. Then he opened the door to the shower. Justin jumped, starting, and the tension level rose just a bit.

"You scared me." _Why? It's not like I haven't showered with you before._

"Relax, it's not that kind of a shower scene."

He kissed Justin, pressing close. The blonde barely reciprocated before pulling away. "I thought you had work to do."  
"I got all sweaty, too!" He mocked, running has hands across Justin's neck before leaning down to kiss him again. This time he kissed back, fierce and wanting, before stopping suddenly.

"Brian?" he sounded uncertain. Brian raised his eyebrows, indicating that he was listening. But Justin seemed to change his mind about whatever it was he was going to say, and instead kissing him tentatively before pressing closer. When Justin turned away from him, he gently took the blonde head in one hand and manhandled him to the glass wall. He kissed Justin's neck, enjoying the pleasure that rolled off the young man. He grabbed and opened a condom from the stash on the little shelf. He lined himself up, kissing the side of Justin's mouth, then sliding down to kiss and suck his neck. Together, they bent, Justin helping a little as he pushed in, then straightened up. Brian thrust slowly into his Sunshine, letting his mind wander from the pleasurable heat surrounding his cock, kissing the back of Justin's neck.

Justin's hands scrabbled for purchase on the glass, and he leaned his head back. Brian caressed his throat gently, the feel of Justin's head against his neck, the scent of Justin's hair, making him want to grab the young man, toss him on the bed, and fuck his brains out. But he took it slow. Because Justin had been pissy and weird lately, so he decided not to push, even as he wondered what was causing such strange behaviour.


	2. Chapter 2

Staring out at the pulsating crowd, Brian stood on the catwalk above the subjects of Babylon, trying to decide who to fuck next. A dark haired trick sidled up to him and not so subtly stuck a warm hand down the front of Brian's jeans. Ah. That's who.

"Thought I'd find you here." Ah, the familiar, albeit unwelcome, voice of Mikey. Brian rolled his eyes.

"Why aren't you at Ben's, taking care of the invalid?" _Can you let me get on with my handjob?_

"He's doing great!" Apparently, Michael was not going to.

"Everybody can use a hand." He pulled the trick's out of his pants. The guy walked away.

"Where's Justin?" Not here. I don't know, but I'd like to.

A few hours ago, Brian had left, asking Justin if he would like to come along. Justin brushed him off, mumbling some half-hearted explanation about having a project to finish. Brian had raised a brow. Usually, Justin was gushing about his art. "Alright." He had left with a shrug.

"He's at home, doing a project."

"That's weird, cause I called your and there was no answer."

"Well, I guess he's not picking up. Or, maybe he went out."

"Don't you guys tell each other where you're going, what you're doing?" _Where are you going with this? What is the point of the stupid conversation? Why are you asking me all these questions?_

"It's not a psych ward. We don't have to sign out, and call in and report our whereabouts. We've even stopped wearing those homing devices."

"Alright, alright. I j- You're free to come and go as you please, it's just, don't you ever wonder, though, what he's doing when you're not around?"

"I know what he's doing." _At least, I think I do. Maybe._

"And it doesn't bother you."

"He's nineteen, for chrissakes! When I was his age, I was out fucking everything that moved, too."

"You still are." _Yup. Stud of Liberty Avenue. That's me!_ He nodded and grinned at Mikey.

"So, why should I have a problem if the lad wants to have a little fun?" Mikey gave him a disparaging look, seemingly torn about something.

"Well, what if it was more than that? What if…

"What if what?" He stared at his friend, growing increasingly nervous. He schooled his features into the partially interested mask. _Come on, Mikey, spit it out._

"What if….there was…someone else? Someone that he was seeing that you didn't know about?" _So that's why he's been acting weird. Shit. Why didn't I see that?_

"What if there was?"

"You'd be okay with that, too?" No_, but what the fuck choice do I have?_

"He doesn't owe me anything."

"What about the truth?" Brian stopped. _Shut up, Michael. Go away. I don't really care._ Michael seemed to get the message and rolled his eyes, turning to go back down the stairs. Brian stared out at the dance floor. _Yeah. Yeah, he owes that to me._ The thought of Justin touching, kissing, fucking someone else who wasn't a trick, pissed him off more than he expected. When did he become so possessive of the blonde? He didn't know what the fuck to do about it.

**********

Brian didn't bother going back to the loft. Somehow, he knew Justin wasn't there. Instead, he drove straight to the bowling all where that ridiculous competition was being held. Cops versus fags. He snorted. Like anyone had any doubts as to who would win.

He spent most of the time drinking beer and shaking his head. This game was not going well and would not end well. He himself was a good bowler, but that didn't mean shit when everyone else sucked. He sat and thought about what Mikey had told him.

Justin was seeing someone else. He had noticed that Justin had been more insistent on the romance, as if needing to compare his actions to something. And he had seemed distant, easily put off. But Brian hadnt guessed anything like that. _Fuck. I thought he was mine. I thought I had him to myself. At least, where matters besides fucking were concerned._ The thought nearly made him laugh out loud. Brian Kinney, caring about someone besides himself or Michael, now that was a first. Feeling this fucking possessive about someone, that was a first, too. He downed another beer.

They lost, no surprise there. After Michael started bugging him at Woody's about the subject he had thought too much about, he went home to think and to drink, kicking off his shoes as soon as he got inside, not even bothering to turn on any lights besides the front entryway ones before he started in on his first glass.


	3. Chapter 3

Why was he seeing someone else? Brian sat on the edge of the bed, thinking. Justin was seeing someone else. Justin was trusting someone else. Justin was loving someone else. It almost made him sick. He took another drink.

_I shouldn't have to tell you I care about you. You should know it. You should know when I show you. I didn't think you'd leave me. I thought you were mine. I thought you knew that I would always be with you. You found you're way here. Why is that when I tried to push you away, you wouldn't go, and now that you're leaving, I don't want you to go?_

He heard the door open and stepped out of the darkened bedroom, steeling himself. He would have to show Justin that he still held claims to his heart, and that his Sunshine couldn't forget that. That he was a fucking little twat for leaving him and an asshole for not telling him.

_If you leave me—You've never seen the lonely me. I wasn't lonely or alone when we met, but now….now I don't know. I don't know how I'll feel if you go. You've wormed your way in here, who knows what tunnels will collapse if you leave. You shouldn't leave. You're mine. The moment I said "I want you to always remember this," you were mine._

Justin was humming some obnoxious piece of music. He tossed his scarf away and stopped, startled, when he saw Brian. "Jesus, Brian." He looked embarrassed, scared. "I thought you were bowling."

Brian raised his glass. "Three cheers to the winners."

"Way to go!"

"Wasn't us." _And_ _definitely wasn't me._

"Oh." He began to walk toward the bedroom. Brian stepped closer, grabbing him gently around the waste. _I know_. Justin resisted, pulling away, pushing at him.

"Where you going?"

He twisted away. "Take a shower."

Brian wasn't going to let him get away that easy. He held on, manhandling Justin, making it hard for him. Anger, jealousy clutched at his gut, turned his skin to fire. "Sure are taking a lot of showers lately."

"Huh." Justin wriggled out of his grip, but he grabbed his arm.

"C'mere."

"Later." _No. You're mine._

"Now."

Justin tapped his face with an open palm. Brian fought the simultaneous urges to lean into it and to recoil in anger. "Cant we please do this after I shower?"

Brian scoffed and tightened his grip, pulling Justin in. "I like smelling you, not soap." He leaned in a sniffed gently at Justin's face. He felt the minute tensing of Justin's muscles, could smell someone else on Justin, but pretended not to.

He watched Justin's eyes. He knew the look Justin was trying to give him, but the fear in his eyes, the mistrust, the guilt, told him plenty. He knew already, and the blue eyes had just confirmed what he had believed would never happen.

Running a hand across the side of Justin's face, he watched the fear of being caught morph into uncertainty morph into lust in Justin's eyes. He gently lifted his jaw with a thumb.

But the smell of that other man hit him again, and possessiveness took over. _Your mine and you know it. _He yanked Justin to him, lifting him off the ground and kissing him harshly, tongue fucking him. He moaned into the younger man's mouth. He was always amazed at how fucking _good_ Justin tasted. He could feel Justin's hard on jutting against his thigh, and suddenly there was too much cloth between them. In a smooth movement, Justin's jacket was on the floor.

He stared again at Justin's mouth, panting slightly, ignoring the lustful but frightened stare that was boring into his face. He could feel his lust and his anger twining together. _You're mine, and you're not leaving. And if you are, it will be because I made you, not because you decided. You fucking little twat. How come you wouldn't leave then but you're leaving now?_ Then with a low growl he was devouring Justin's lips again, groaning softly. He tugged at Justin's shirt, pulled away and teased Justin's mouth with the tip of his tongue, just barely there, knowing Justin wanted more. Then he was back on Justin, shoving his shirt up and off, falling on the floor to his knees.

He lowered Justin down to the floor gently. Justin shoved Brian's shirt up, but Brian squirmed away and sat up. So Justin made a move to undo his fly, but Brian slapped his hands away. _No. This is my territory. I'm in control here. You're doing nothing_. He yanked Justin's fly down, then bent down to kiss him again.

"You like that?"

"Yes." Justin sounded needy, desperate. Good.

Brian kissed him hard, his left hand sliding around to the back of Justin's head grip his hair and gently pull, his right sliding into Justin's jeans. He started kissing Justin's neck, intent of biting him, branding him, grimacing against the strange scent of someone else on Justin's body. He moved back up, away, kissing Justin' jaw and lips again. But then the smell of that other guy was overpowering him, overpowering everything, and he jerked upright, placing his hands on either side of the blonde head, hovering over Justin, who panted, desperately kissing his skin .

"Why'd you stop? Brian?" He stared at Justin, allowing the anger and disbelief to flood his features. _Because this is your fault. Because you're a fucking twat for doing this. Because I want you to stay even though I cant say it. Because I know you wont stay. Because _he_ is all over you._

Brian slid down and sniffed Justin's neck, his nose filling with the awful scent of the mystery guy, is eyes still locked with Justin's. He stared into the blue eyes for a moment. "Go take a shower." He slid his hands against the floor as he shifted off of Justin, part of him glorifying in Justin's wince in reaction to both his tone and the shrill sound of his skin against the floor. "You stink."

He got up and walked to the television without looking back at the pale blonde on the floor. He heard Justin sigh and get up, walking to the shower. He grabbed a smoke and lit it, taking a much needed drag.

He shook his head, staring at the black television screen. Why was it that every time he tried to show someone how he felt, it failed? Why didn't they understand his actions meant more than his words? _I thought he would never leave. Why did I let myself get fucking comfortable with someone? I should know better than anyone that it always hurts in the end._ He took another drag, then stubbed out the finished cigarette, pulling off his clothes and climbing into his bed.

He knew Justin wouldn't join him, and was kind of glad. He hoped it wasn't over, that Justin was still his and not this other guy's. But when Justin came out of the shower in sweatpants and a Tshirt, and didn't even glance Brian's way, his brain told him other wise. Watching the blonde figure curl up on the couch, Brian felt a lightness in his chest, and wasn't sure what it meant. He felt free, awake, solid, but at the same time burdened and dark, closed, hurting; empty.


End file.
